Hungary And The Dreadful First Task
by DaughterofDemeter123
Summary: Hungary spends a lovely afternoon watching the triwizard competition. One-shot, rated T for Hungary's frying pan


**Disclaimer: I actually _don't _own Harry Potter or Hetalia! Shocking, I know, but hey. That's life.**

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><p>Hungary sighed, straightening her new robes. Yes, that's right. <em>Robes. <em>Poland would have a heart attack if he saw her right now.

She wasn't sure what made her more upset- the fact that she was being forced into practically _medieval_ clothing, or the fact that they had torn one of _her _dragons away from her nest in Romania's dragon reserve. _'I knew something like this would happen. Lying jerk.'_

Worse than that, she had to watch as her poor baby was harassed by school children!

The yaoi enthusiast huffed loudly, earning a few annoyed looks from England's citizens. She glared back. England and Romania had tried to appease the furious woman by giving her a ticket to see this stupid tournament.

Key word: tried. Both of them had gotten a taste of her frying pan before she agreed. And besides, she only did agree so as to make sure her poor dragon wasn't injured in the match.

Stupid Romania.

The next time she saw the jerk, his skull was going to be crushed.

Absently, she watched as the champions came out, one by one. A Swedish short-snout for the older Hogwarts champion, a Common Welsh Green for the french girl, and a Chinese Fireball for the bulgarian guy. Realizing what was coming next, she began to glare daggers at nothing in particular

She narrowed her eyes, frowning at him a bit as England's 'chosen one' walked into the arena. She tutted with displeasure as he allowed himself to be chased by her precious little dragon. He was practically tormenting the poor thing, and all those idiotic wizards sitting with her in the stands did was scream every time the poor girl flapped her wings!

"You are all pansies." She muttered, staring at the scene, completely uninterested.

The boy in the arena shouted out a spell before taking cover behind a cluster of rocks. After like, a full minute, a broomstick flew out of the sky. He climbed aboard, and everyone cheered.

"Oh, for goodness sake..." She rolled her eyes at the other audience members. It was a little pathetic, in her opinion, that none of them had thought to use a summoning charm on _the egg_.

Her boredom melted into fury, though, as her dragon broke free of it's restraints and chased the boy out of the arena. _'what does he think he's doing!'_

Everyone sat there in tense silence for a few minutes. Hungary calmly took out a Rubiks cube and began to solve it.

At last, the champion came back... without the dragon.

She dropped her puzzle in shock as everyone else exploded into cheers. _'no way... wait. he killed her, didn't he?'_

Her hands formed fists, and she became shrouded in an evil purple aura.

Hungary stood up. She made her way toward the remains of the tarp that had stood over the judges. Already, she spotted England gloating at France and Bulgaria. Oh yeah. Heads were gonna roll.

She walked faster, green eyes locked onto her target. The wizards surrounding her cried out in outrage as she shoved them aside.

Finally, he was a mere four feet away, still gloating. France, who looked especially irritated, noticed her and smirked. After all, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Brandishing a frying pan that she'd pulled out of nowhere, Hungary smacked England on the side of the head.

"OW! What the bloody-" The island nation turned to face her and paled. "Hungary!"

"You liar! You little jerk!" She snarled. "You told me she wouldn't be harmed. You and that seggfej, Romania!"

"Hungary, you realize-"  
>"Shut up! That dragon had a mate and five hatchlings!"<p>

She smacked him again.

"Liar! I can't believe this, you fattyú!"

By now, a bit of a crowd had formed. One of the judges, an extremely old man stepped forward.

"Miss, I will have to request that you stop beating my country."

"He just allowed some brat to murder my baby!" She held up her pan threateningly, a terrifying expression on her face. "Vengeance must be served."

England mouthed 'help me.'

Someone in the crowd shot a stunner. It hit her straight on, but nothing happened. The woman continued her assault without a hitch.

France began to laugh obnoxiously at his frienemy's misfortune, and even stoic Bulgaria cracked a smile.

"Respect promises to your elders, you jerk!"  
><em>Whack<em>.  
>"I thought you were a gentleman!"<br>_Whack_.  
>"Be thankful I'm such a forgiving person!"<br>_Whack_.

Deciding he'd had enough, she allowed the other nation to slump onto the ground in pain.

"I expect full payment for a funeral, therapy for her family, and you _better_ not try to use her body for potions ingredients!" The nation turned around and began to walk away.

Most of her audience had been stunned speechless, but a few tried to stun her again (not that it worked). The elderly wizard helped England to his feet.

"Arthur, would you mind telling me what that was about?"

He just groaned in response.


End file.
